My Year in Jazz: 2025

Kim Kleinman, Contributing Writer

I don’t have the responsibility that Fritz has in providing us with the 12 hours of top-notch jazz programming each week. That is a daunting task I can only begin to imagine. There is so much wonderful music to listen to and he must have jazz playing every waking moment. Daunting sure, but it doesn’t sound all that bad to me.

His jazz world, like many of ours, is defined by recordings and it falls to him and other critics to list the best albums of any particular year. I study those choices, his in particular, because as with the weekly shows, his lists are bristling with ideas worth pursuing.

I follow those suggestions and there is much jazz playing in my house too. But my jazz world has come to be defined by performances, most often on streams from Smoke Jazz Club and the Smalls Live sibling clubs of Mezzrow and Smalls. I discovered them as a real lifeline during lockdown and they have allowed me the privilege of becoming a regular in at least a part of the New York scene.

I could spout virtuous nonsense that the gig is purer than the album, citing Eric Dolphy at the end of his Last Date album where he is heard to say, “when you hear music, after it’s over, it’s gone in the air, you can never capture it.”  Yeah, yeah, jazz is forged on the bandstand—in front of people who are drinking and talking and flirting and, now, looking at their phones.  Bill Evans, Scott LaFaro, and Paul Motian were creating high art at the Village Vanguard in 1961, and the fabled live recordings catch more than a little crowd noise.  That’s what sanctimony gets you.

Albums are intentional and gigs are often enough catch-as-catch-can, determined by who from a vast pool of skilled craftspeople can fill in on drums or bass or saxophone on a particular night. But there is often enough magic in that serendipity, and that is what I seek. Watching for it to happen focuses my attention and enhances my experience.

So, here are a few of my highlights this year:

MY OLD RELIABLES FROM SMALLS LIVE

I added MICHAEL KANAN to my don’t-miss list. Like ALAN BROADBENT, ARI HOENIG, and MIKI YAMANAKA, he is a player I make a point of catching on their regular gigs. Kanan was almost certainly at the Bill Charlap/Noriko Ueda gig I went to when I finally went to Mezzrow in October 2024. He plays regularly with guitarist Greg Ruggiero and bassist Neal Miner; they mine standards from deeper in the catalog than many. He also plays with singers like young Noa Lee Chait at Mezzrow and uptown, geographically and metaphorically, at Smoke Jazz Club with Jane Monheit.  He is a student of a student of Lennie Tristano so that, along with playing in such a trio and accompanying singers gives him a broad foundation that intrigues, and helps me expand my range.

Broadbent with Harvie S and Billy Mintz are reliable in their subtlety and taste but they have their own surprises each month. Hoenig is seemingly full of manic rhythmic tics, but he listens sensitively and has a wonderful trio with Gadi Lehavi and Ben Tiberio. On November 3rd though, he had Miguel Zenon and Matt Penman for a sax/bass/drums trio that was electrifying on its own terms and then Joshua Redman showed up, sitting in with even more invention. It was all lightning in the bottle.

Yamanaka has been a steady late-night presence at Smalls, playing trio with husband Jimmy Macbride on drums and many capable bassists, of whom Tyrone Allen is a favorite. Her book has been a smart mix of originals and homages to some of the key but not necessarily household-name players of the last quarter of the 20th Century.  She had a composer’s residency at the Jazz Gallery in August that allowed her to focus on her writing and arranging. While I didn’t find that as successful as it might have been, it set up a two-night run in November with Nicole Glover that prepared them for a recording session. Yamanaka’s tunes are mature and they are enhanced by Glover’s explorations and embroideries. I look forward to that album.

DUOS (AND A DRUMMERLESS TRIO) AT MEZZROW

The first show of the year to make my honor roll was GEOFFREY KEEZER and STEVE WILSON at Mezzrow on January 23—two lyrical players who seemed to want to have a conversation. I have seen Keezer only occasionally, so watching his touch was an opportunity to better place him. That he was with Wilson, whose alto has an intriguing melodicism that doesn’t immediately evoke either Parker or Konitz, made the evening memorable.

In the past week, MARC COPLAND, who had been disappointingly unassertive in trio and quartet gigs, really shone with ADAM KOLKER, whose dry tenor work was new to me. Then MIGUEL ZENON and LUIS PERDROMO played through the popular songs they heard growing up, which they captured on the two volumes of El Arte Del Bolero—beautiful melodies, unmistakably Latin and rhythmic but without a drum kit much less congas and timbales.

Spike Wilner, the owner of Smalls/Mezzrow, recruits pianist SPIKE WILNER to play at least every couple of weeks. He and Paul Gill lost Anthony Pinciotti as their regular drummer a year ago, but they have found Matt Wilson and others to fill in. I don’t see him even a majority of the time, but he deserves the gig. Twice now (October 6 and November 17), they have gone drummerless to work with ANAT COHEN.  Her clarinet is warm, expressive, and infectious. If she just came in and played stoically as Nicole Glover does, it would be enough. But there is no one who has as much fun playing and listening to bandmates. She is quite magical. As with Yamanaka with Glover, I’d like to see this configuration play regularly and record.

IN PERSON

I actually do go to clubs and fully acknowledge that, for all the convenience of streams, there is nothing like being in the room to see the magic happen. But I want to mention just two shows.

I was part of only perhaps two dozen fans who saw Toledo’s own LARRY FULLER at a too-rare jazz show at the local Blue Strawberry. Fuller with Loren Cohen and Carmen Intorre have a big robust sound, evoking Oscar Peterson with a slinky blues by Fuller and a wonderful cover of the majestic Peterson composition, Wheatland. Old Devil Moon was an extremely strong opener and there were plenty of welcome standards, blues, and jazz tunes. The appealing first set ballad was Jane’s Theme. Mrs. Fuller was there and I chatted with her at break, asking if I could call her Jane and playing up my Jazz Spectrum bona fides.  That just doesn’t happen on the streams.

JAMES CARTER with his organ trio was an add-on to the Jazz St Louis season when I realized I would be in town in June. TERREL STAFFORD with regular partners Tim Warfield and Bruce Barth but also David Wong and the impeccable Lewis Nash were the ones I had regretted missing, so I was glad to be able to see them too. Carter though didn’t seem to be as sure a bet; he wasn’t actually a long shot but he came through with pyrotechnics across all four saxophones. I hadn’t been a big fan of jazz organ but I wanted to test the claim, made by drummer/blogger Vinnie Sperrazza, that Donald Bailey was Elvin Jones’s polyrhythmic equal.  Virtually all of Sperrazza’s drum-technique observations were lost on me, but absorbing all of Bailey’s work with Jimmy Smith was a wonderful introduction to both of them as important players. Plus, Bailey served as a reason to listen to Hampton Hawes more systematically.

FINALLY

I saw one of AL FOSTER’s last gigs—a wonderful set in January at Smoke Jazz Club with Chris Potter, Brad Mehldau, and Joe Martin. He was a big name (Miles Davis, the Joe Henderson State of the Tenor albums) made accessible and familiar by the streams. I caught him often enough when he played at these venues and he exuded a palpable sense of fun. So his death in May seemed too soon, even though he was 82. Sperrazza helped me understand what Foster was doing with Miles, including coaxing him to play a ballad, Mr. Pastorious, on Amandla. But he also did wonderful work with Joe Henderson and with pianists Tommy Flanagan and Steve Kuhn, among many others.

Experiencing the music this way drives home the craft and consummate skill that all these players have. I see them playing with passion and intelligence for small handfuls of us. But it is a gift to be with them and to see them make magic.

It made for a very happy year in jazz for me. On to 2026!